Crimson Rain
by Melty Cat
Summary: POV Fic. Oneshot with possible extension in the future. Inspector Heinrich Lunge and Inspector Deborah Taylor find themselves in a gunfight in the city streets.


_**Written before I forget. I had this inspiratiuon come to me as I was half asleep. (As usual.) Oneshot that could possibly be extended into a full story. Enjoy!**_

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The sound of gunfire echoed through the cobbled streets as I sat huddled against a wall with my pistol gripped tightly in my hands. I couldn't tell what was the loudest, the gunfire or the rain that was falling at a rapid rate. I secretly hoped that it would wash away the scum trying to kill us.

Blood. The smell of blood filled my nostrils. Was it mine? I checked myself over to make sure I wasn't injured, but I seemed pretty much unscathed. A few bumps and scrapes, but no bullet wounds. It must have been his... I looked down at my partner, Inspector Heinrich Lunge, who I had dragged and propped against the wall we were sheltering against. His white shirt was stained with bright red around his middle. Such a shocking colour. He lay there breathing raggedly, his own pistol in his now shaking hands. The puddle that had formed beneath him from the constant rain was a horrible crimson.

I had not noticed when it was that he had been shot. He wore it so well that it wasn't until we had cleared the last street that I had noticed him flagging. And the red... That horrible red colour. He had collapsed on the ground to his knees, but seemed intent on carrying on with our pursuit. I had no choice but to drag him to the wall as another barrage of bullets came flying past our heads.

That was when he spoke. "There is a payphone across the street." He pointed a shaky finger to the intended target. "I will cover you. Call for back up."

I had discarded my bag that had my phone inside it in the chaos and his phone had been damaged during the battle. It was our only means of survival it seemed. Back up. The thought of help in this situation seemed very welcome to me. I nodded and slowly crept forwards, my back grazing the wall as if magnetized to it. I peered round the corner and took a quick look to see if it was clear, but I was met with a single shot to the wall right in front of my face. Chips of mortar and paint flew into my eyes and I had to duck behind the wall again to rid myself of them. I double checked my weapon to make sure that I had enough ammo for one last dash. I had half a clip left. That would be fine. We had cleared most of the attackers before.

I chambered a round and quickly turned the corner. There he was! His horribly gaudy blue suit visible in the grey street. I didn't hesitate. I could see he had his gun pointed right at me. I unloaded two shots into him and he fell to the ground. I took that moment to dash to the phonebooth. Looking back at my partner who had managed to crawl his way to the corner of the building to cover me as I ran, I mashed the keys and waited breathlessly for an answer. It seemed like an eternity. I heard him unload a clip. Someone must have revealed themselves. I was lucky.

Finally, a voice came through. I yelled out for backup. I don't know what I said, but I yelled it as fast as I could. I guess I was just relieved to know that I had got through. Maybe now we could end this.

Suddenly, I felt a whoosh of air as the phonebooth door was torn open and an intense pain in my side as an arm wrapped around my neck. The air was stolen from my lungs and my back tensed and became as rigid and sheet metal. I couldn't talk, I couldn't move. Again, there was another sharp pain, but this time followed by the sound of a gun discharging. The grip around my neck loosened as the man behind me hit the wall to the side from the force of the bullet that had torn through his skull. He fell limp and lifeless to the ground, his brain matter and blood splattered like a spiderweb on the wall he had collided with.

The pain... It hurt so bad. My legs felt so weak. I fell to my knees and looked over to my partner. He still had his gun raised. He was the one who shot him. He had put him down like the rabid dog that he was. But, what had he done to me? My hand reached to my side. I took it away and stared at the blood that covered my fingers. I could feel the fabric of my shirt was clinging to my skin, wet from rain and now... This. That horrible, red liquid. I felt so faint. My eyes couldn't focus properly as I looked to the dead man at my side. I just managed to recognize the shape of a blade before I keeled over on the ground. So that was it. That is what this pain is... I gritted my teeth. The pain seemed to be slowly dulling. I didn't know why. Was I slipping away? Would I die here?

I felt a pair of shaky hands grip onto my clothing. I was turned over, my wounds now facing skyward. I could feel the rain pitter-pattering on my back. I slowly raised my head to see my partner beside me. I have no idea how or when he had managed to get to me. His wounds were bad in their own right. I watched as he brushed away dirt and tore open the bottom half of my shirt. His hands pushed down onto the my wounds to stem the blood. I tried to speak, but he hushed me almost instantly. He was right, of course. I shouldn't exert any energy... I smiled up at him before closing my eyes and resting my head back down on the concrete.

Then came the sirens. Quiet at first, then gradually they got louder and louder. Help had arrived. At last. I breathed a sigh of relief and hoped that Heinrich would be OK. I didn't know about my own fate. Maybe this would be it? To die at the hands of a murderer. Yet another number? Only another news report? Maybe. Maybe not. A paramedic took over, his gloved hands now replacing Heinrich's bloodstained ones. It was then I blacked out. But, I lost consciousness with a hopeful feeling.


End file.
